


i just gotta know what you and i would feel like

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Established Percival Graves/Queenie Goldstein, F/M, Just pure PWP, M/M, Multi, PWP, Roommates, Self-Indulgent, queenie meddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 20:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: The one where Credence, Queenie, and Percival have a night out that changes everything. And they were ROOMMATES!





	i just gotta know what you and i would feel like

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2019! Part one of a fic that I've been working on for a year and a half. Cool. 100% self-indulgent because why not? Also because it's almost my birthday. But also because. YOLO.  
> Didn't see the second movie and, honestly, not planning to, but I just like these characters.
> 
> Edit: No part 2, I guess this is it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Credence is trying to have a good time—really, he is—but what was supposed to be a night of friends going out after a long week of work has once again turned into Credence sitting alone at the bar watching over the drinks while Percival and Queenie leave for "a" dance.

Glancing at his phone, Credence scowls. One dance has become 15 minutes. Again.

He had watched them for a few minutes, until the curl of arousal began to shift to something closer to jealousy, and he had to focus on his drink. It’s not news to him that he wishes he were a part of their relationship—beyond the welcome-but-still-awkward third wheel that he feels—but he knows it is useless getting upset about it. He loves his friends, and enjoys the time they spend together; but it hurts, sometimes, watching them so free to touch and kiss and… all the things Credence wishes _he_ had the ability to do. Annoyed at himself, he still can’t resist searching them out again. When he turns around, however, he can't see them anywhere in the crowd.

Suddenly overcome with frustration, he downs the last of his drink and pushes all three glasses towards the bar. They deserve it, he thinks pettishly, for leaving him when this was supposed to be a night for the three of them. At least they had picked a club close to the apartment they share, so he doesn’t have to worry about finding either of them for a ride home. Or leaving with anyone else. He doesn’t _want_ to leave with anyone else. Not that it really matters. They have each other, and Credence has them as friends. Normally that is enough.

It _should_ be enough.

Credence stomps his way towards the bathroom, the refrain of the old argument bouncing uselessly around his head, and by the time he finishes and washes his hands, he has cooled off enough to decide he should at least text his friends to let them know he remains safe and unkidnapped, instead of just disappearing on them.

Tapping out a quick message, he hits send and is surprised to hear the chirp of Percival's text tone come from the end of the hallway he's currently in.

Frowning in confusion, Credence turns around and slowly heads to the back, where there are a few doors that he had overlooked.

They wouldn’t be stupid enough to sneak into a storage room for a quickie, would they?

He hears a moan drift from one of the doors at the very end, where it hasn’t been closed all the way. When he silently pushes down the handle to press the door fully open he can see Queenie's head between Percival's thighs where he sits on a covered box, his pants pulled down to the floor, one of his hands clutched in her curls, head tipped back on another moan.

Credence swallows. Apparently they would.

As Credence watches, one of her hands drifts up from her lap and Credence sees her fingers shining before they make contact with Percival’s skin and he thrusts his hips up into them and whines.

Credence lets the door behind him close as quietly as possible, automatically flipping the lock on it, and he ducks down behind some shelving and boxes before they can see him.

The door must make some noise though, because Percival glances at it through eyes gone half-lidded and asks, "Queenie, are you sure you locked the door?" Queenie pulls her head up and Credence has to bite his fist at the sight of Percival's cock, slick with Queenie's saliva.

"Of course, Percy. Why? You sure you don't want Credence walking in, seeing you like this?" Her lips are as slick as Percival’s cock, and Credence’s breath catches—she had been wearing a shiny lip-gloss earlier, and he remembers wishing he could touch her lips to discover if they were as moist as they looked.

Percival opens his mouth to reply, but only groans when Queenie slips the finger she had been rubbing against his hole _inside_ of him. "Fu-fuck. Queenie..."

Queenie hums and slowly moves her finger in and out; "I think he'd like to see you like this. Being prepared for him. Or, do you think he'd like to do this, himself? Finger you open before he fucks you?"

Credence is frozen in place, but he lifts his eyes up to watch Percival's face as he makes a choked noise. He's flushed and panting just from one of Queenie's fingers and the thought of Credence watching? Of Credence wanting to fuck him?

Credence moves to adjust himself in his jeans, uncomfortably hard with eyes still locked on the couple in front of him. Queenie is flushed, too, focused on working another finger into Percival's hole as he bites his lip to hold in the sounds fighting to escape.

"Aw, darling, don't hold it in, you know Credence would love to hear you fall apart. You sound so gorgeous when you do." She moves to put her mouth back over the head of his cock, and Credence watches her cheeks hollow as she sucks. Credence shifts again at this, watching her slick lips compressing over Percival’s flushed cock. It is an intoxicating sight.

Lightheaded, Credence rubs a palm over the bulge in his jeans, longing for the luxury of removing them and touching himself. He had never thought even a quarter of what is happening now, however, so it is much more important to soak up as much as he can.

Percival moans again and tilts his head back until Credence can barely see his face at his current angle, "Queenie, _fuck_ , you can't just... We need... we need to hurry up and— _Credence_. We need to get back to him. He's probably— _shit, right there_ —he's probably wondering where we are..."

Queenie pulls back and licks her lips, "you'd better come quick, then," and slides her mouth back onto Percival's cock as she continues the steady slip and slide into Percival with her fingers, rubbing in even deeper. Seconds later Percival is coming with a groan, fingers still tangled in Queenie's curls as she swallows around him and keeps her fingers steadily stroking until he whines. Credence bites his own arm at that—never having imagined Percival making that sound. Now it’s all he can hear.

Unable to tear his eyes away from his friends, Credence moves to adjust himself again. He is so _hard_ and thinking rationally has become far too difficult. He tries to remind himself that people get off to _fantasies_ all the time, and just because, in the heat of the moment Percival had… Credence bites down more firmly at where that train of thought is going, teeth pressing into his skin through the shirt. Dully, he hopes it doesn’t leave a mark–there would be no explaining that–but most of his focus is still on what had just happened. What he had just seen.

Somehow he can’t move past the idea that _Percival_ had come while Queenie had been talking about Credence. While _they_ had been thinking about Credence. He had been on Percival’s mind when he came.

And Percival hadn’t been repulsed by the thought.

Credence shakes his head, trying to get himself to focus before he messes up and makes a noise, or they spot him… Shit. He’s right in front of the door. He can’t escape without them seeing him, and he can’t crawl further into the room until they leave—not to mention the difficulties associated with crawling silently with a hard-on while in jeans.

What is he going to do?

Mind racing, he watches as Queenie smiles up at Percival and stands, holding out her hand. She giggles and swats his hand away when he reaches for her skirt. “Not now, doll, didn’t you see Credence’s text? He’s headed home, we should probably go meet him there.” Credence shrinks into any shadows he can find as Percival swears and rises, redoing his pants and running a hand over his hair before patting down Queenie’s hair as well as he can in the moment.

Queenie shifts so Percival’s back is to Credence, and she pulls him into a kiss. “Let’s stop and pick up some ice cream for him in apology.” She sounds worried, and Percival nods in agreement.

“We did get… a little carried away. Those new _jeans_ of his…” Percival pauses when Queenie looks innocently at him, “ _Queenie._ What did you—" Queenie leans in to steal a kiss, cocking her hip to the side with a swish.

“Oh, you _loved_ it.” Percival ignores her. When they reach the door, Queenie stays on Percival’s left so his back is to Credence the entire time. She smirks when he does in fact have to unlock the door to exit, and he grumbles playfully at her. Just before the door swings shut behind them, Queenie glances back and meets Credence’s eyes with a wink and a bright grin.

Credence collapses against the wall. What is she _up_ to? Surely she doesn’t want… _want what?_ Credence and Percival together? All three of them together? She had definitely known he was there—beyond not being surprised, she had definitely expected to see Credence where he was, the wink was unquestioningly meant for him.

She had known and hadn’t stopped… Credence remembers the door—unlocked and ajar. Had she _planned_ this?

Mind whirling in confusion, he stands with a wince. While he is less painfully hard after the fear and confusion of the last two minutes, the memory of Percival and Queenie is still sending sparks of arousal through his system. He needs to leave now. He can still make it home before them, hopefully with enough time to think.

He may not know what Queenie’s plan is, but he needs to try to sort through what just happened. He needs to consider what he wants to come next.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Tessa Violet's _Bad Ideas_ and if you get a mo' [the music video](https://youtu.be/eNtK6jx9y4A) is a GEM and visually stunning, as well as the music being a B O P.


End file.
